To Win His Hand
by Psycho Goddess
Summary: The Mary Sues of Mirkwood have banded together to win the Elven Prince’s heart. Too bad he’s married and has a son- the one and only Heir of Isildur. [Parody]
1. Chapter 1 An Unintended Marriage

**Title**: To Win His Hand 

** Summary**: The Mary Sues of Mirkwood have banded together to win the Elven Prince's heart. Too bad he's *married* and has a son- the one and only Heir of Isildur. [Parody]

** Rating**: PG

** Category**: Parody- you have been warned

** Author's Notes**: Okay, so I feel guilty writing this when I have so many serious stories to attend to. Let's just say I've been freaking out over exams, and I'm writing this as a break from essay draft # 237. And I'm not exaggerating by much. So I haven't forgotten my other works, they just haven't been receiving the attention they need. Exams are next week, and I have a few days off before second semester. Look for updates then. 

And it's a PARODY. The tone is meant to be that of a "serious" fic, in the form of Mary Sue's galore. Please don't make any comments on Elf/Human relations, the lack of Tolkien supported facts, modern references made by characters, and whatever else you may wish to flame me for. Canon violation is part of parodying, really. I've tried to keep Legolas's character believable given the circumstances. Actual suggestions and feedback are most welcome, critical or not.

** Disclaimer**: I wish I didn't own and like this idea, but I do. 

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Legolas of the Woodland Realm looked upon her sleeping form and sighed. For a woman she was not unpretty, but the whole mortality issue wasn't much fun to deal with. Even if it did work out, which according to the stories it rarely did, the children of such a union tended to suffer a great amount of psychological damage.

Still, Gilraen was now his wife. Curse the consumption of too much alcohol. The fact that she was also the wife of Arathorn, chieftain of the dunedain, seemed small in light of such a monumental discovery- Elves were just as stupid as men when they were drunk.

She chose this moment to wake, opening her large bedroom eyes with a smile on her lips.

"Last night was…"

She sees him now, and screams. She attempts to jump out of the bed, dress herself and not freak simultaneously, but hangovers can be a real bitch. Just ask…well, just about anyone after New Years celebrations. She ends up on the bed, sheets barely covering enough to be called decent; he smiles, for despite the gravity of the situation, it is a cute pose.

"We will not speak of this again?"

"Agreed."

"We will maintain the same relationship?"

"Agreed."

"We will not act as if we are guilty of an unabsolved sin when we are in the same room?"

"Agreed."

"Then we are in accord. Please exit the bedchambers at your earliest convenience."

"Only one thing…"

"What now?"

"By custom, we're married."

"Fantastic," she muttered, rolling her eyes. Or rather attempting to roll her eyes. She got a quarter of the circle before a sharp pang made her stop.

"It does get better, m'lady. As I remember the events, you could very well be with child at this moment…"

"You do realize the high improbability of that, do you not? I pray for your sake that your father has you shooting blanks."

"I assure you, the seedlings of Mirkwood are of naught but the highest caliber."

"I think I'll be needing a repeat of last night's beverages. I don't suppose there are mini-bars in the rooms?"

~*~

Nigh on two months passed before Gilraen thought of her nighttime _escapades_, roughly coinciding with a visit to the midwife. Sure enough, those high caliber shots had aimed true. 

By this time, Legolas had departed for home. Gilraen knew that she must tell the elf the truth, and prepared to end her sojourn at Rivendell and head for Mirkwood. She just couldn't _wait_ to explain this one to Arathorn…


	2. Chapter 2 – Meet the Contenders

**Title**: To Win His Hand 

**Summary**: The Mary Sues of Mirkwood have banded together to win the Elven Prince's heart. Too bad he's *married* and has a son- the one and only Heir of Isildur. [Parody]

**Rating**: PG

**Category**: Parody- you have been warned

**Author's Notes**: Okay, so I feel guilty writing this when I have so many serious stories to attend to. Let's just say I've been freaking out over exams, and I'm writing this as a break from essay draft # 237. And I'm not exaggerating by much. So I haven't forgotten my other works, they just haven't been receiving the attention they need. Exams are next week, and I have a few days off before second semester. Look for updates then. 

And it's a PARODY. The tone is meant to be that of a "serious" fic, in the form of Mary Sue's galore. Please don't make any comments on Elf/Human relations, the lack of Tolkien supported facts, modern references made by characters, and whatever else you may wish to flame me for. 

**Disclaimer**: I wish I didn't own and like this idea, but I do. 

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His home of Mirkwood, despite it's name and the growing shadow of Sauron's return, was a happy place filled with beautiful maidens, great halls and no end of flaming idiots who thought that their little spider problem could be fixed without pesticides.

It took much exchanging of gold, a few flashes and a few threats for Gilraen to obtain an audience with Legolas. The deciding factor was her ill-mannered lecture on propriety and hosting customs. It was really more screaming occasionally intersected with discernible words, but it got the point across.

Still, when she first entered the room she had been shown to, there stood five simpering elf maidens. All were stunning to the point of blinding those who look at them. She was introduced to each of them in turn.

Lahydrochloricacidwen held wisdom in her emerald eyes, for despite her young age she had seen much destruction. Mostly by her own hands, when she had been possessed by Sauron. She was the love child of Varda and a really famous hobbit, though she looked the part of an elf.

Mistaharwen was a princess of Fangorn, raised by Treebeard in the image of a proper entwife. She had many political ambitions, and a tendency to practice married life by caressing trees when there were no elf gigolos to work on.

Mahogany Lightfoot, so named for her mahogany hair and gracefulness, had been born into a poor elf family, and raised amongst humans. In a parallel universe, at least for a time. Her foster parents were mean to her, and she ran away many times. They did not know of her mysterious origins or the prophesy that came with her. _When the time comes, she will realize pointy ears are not a genetic trait passed from Great Aunt Eunice._

Graceralla Flowering Tree was a rare specimen, for her slender brown body and green hued hair decorated with glittering jewels, was the source of her name. She is the daughter of Mithrandir and an elf who died tragically of some lingering illness. Okay, not quite true. Her mother was mad and in an asylum, but that was a family secret. It would ruin her hopes of marriage for such a tragic secret to come out. Apparently the Bronte sisters had an effect on Middle Earth.

Butch Softatheart was the final woman, though she bedecked herself in man's raiments. Her hair was cut in a boyish shape; she carried a sword on her hip and a full quiver of arrows on her back.

Legolas waved his hand in dismissal, and the women left.

"They contend for my hand in marriage."

Gilraen laughed. 

"Then perhaps I have done you a favour, m'lord." 

"Perhaps? It is a certainty. For any woman I should grow to love must not be made to please me, but to please herself. She must be true to her values, and to see the necessity of war. But war would not be her first action, for her mind must be shrewd for treaty negotiations and diplomacy. 

"Those women- they were born and raised to be the wives a man would want. It is a most unattractive trait. But come, that is of no importance. What duty bears you to this realm?"

"The duty of my own, m'lord. The elves of Mirkwood aim well, and the target has been struck."

A frown creased his brow for a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. 

"I see. And this target is true?"

"It is."

"I believe the best course of actions would involve a meeting with your husband, m'lady. He will be most pleased to learn that you shall bear him a child."

Gilraen smiled. There was no malice in his advice, and she knew that the real father of her child would forever be a friend to her little one, would forever look after the heir of Isildur that he would become.

"That he will. That he will."

And that done, Gilraen strode for all purposes from the life of Prince Legolas for many years. Now, to deal with the nuptials many forced upon him…

…*…*…*…

Later chapters will feature more Legolas and Mary Sue interaction. Of course, the Aragorn thing will come back to a head eventually.


End file.
